


Wanting

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Obsession, Short One Shot, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:31:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren has wanted things his whole life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onstraysod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onstraysod/gifts).



He could never stop _wanting_.

Wanting to be the best, in control, the voices gone from his head.

He knew his parents and his uncle had always found him _wanting_. He was not what they had expected, what he was supposed to be.

The common thread throughout his life was _wanting_.

Now he wanted in a different way.

The girl, the scavenger, represented everything he had ever wanted. She glowed, shimmered even, in the Force, primal and untamed and brilliant in her potential. He could see the tendrils of her puissance everywhere he looked, taunting him, as if to say, _is this what you want? You want to be as powerful as her, she who is yet untrained and clueless?_

She had his grandfather’s lightsaber. Something else he had coveted, wanted. Where did she get it? How could a young scavenger girl from Jakku, of all places, end up with one of the most precious and powerful artefacts in the galaxy?

He wanted them both, and he would stop at nothing to get them back.

At night he dreamed of an island, and while it was a relief from the intolerable and perpetual pains in his head, it became yet another exquisite form of torture that only his own mind could ever hope to create.

He could see the greenery of the island coated in the shimmering blue-grey mist that represented her Force presence to him. His hopes evaporated every night like the wisps of smoke and shadow that she was. The greenery faded away, and left him drowning in a sea that was choppy and taunted him, mocking him with the color and feel of _her_ everywhere before it swallowed him whole.

He awoke gasping for breath, his arms tired from struggling to swim to that green shore, from trying to cling onto one last green tendril of hope.

He wanted, and he begged, and he meditated, trying to bring back the location and the details from his subconscious, knowing that he knew where they were, where she was, and wanting so desperately to be able to reach out to her in his mind.

He wanted to feel her there again, and he was so close, aching, reaching out to that green shore and those blue-grey tendrils of presence and power, and so every night he drowned in a sea of his own incompetence and self-loathing, wanting desperately only to get through the next day of training so that he could go to sleep and try over again.

He wanted, and he wanted, and he wanted, and someday, he would have it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive feedback always appreciated. You can find me on tumblr at politicalmamaduck.tumblr.com!


End file.
